


Missed a Spot

by melanoms



Series: 50 Kisses [15]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Assassins & Hitmen, Blood Kink, F/M, Mild Blood, Murder, Rough Kissing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-19
Updated: 2020-08-19
Packaged: 2021-03-05 21:48:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 465
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25992421
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/melanoms/pseuds/melanoms
Summary: Jim is determined to send Sherlock on a quest for the nonexistent; eternally grateful to have you leaving the breadcrumbs this time.Kiss prompt: cleaning the other person’s lips with a lick and a kiss.
Relationships: Jim Moriarty/Reader
Series: 50 Kisses [15]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1671802
Kudos: 52





	Missed a Spot

**Author's Note:**

> I’ve been thinking about [Power Play](https://archiveofourown.org/works/23633902/chapters/56721955) if Jim got a hold of Eve before Sherlock. So here’s a little sneak peek inside that pairing.

You traced your index finger over your blade and sucked in a breath. Eyes flickering from the glimmering crimson to the corpse on the floor, you wrinkled your nose and scowled.

“I wanted to use my gun, but he insisted—”

“My, my, my,” Jim clicked his tongue from behind you. “You are the messiest of them all.”

You spun around and smirked.

“Only for you.” You gestured to the victim, your victim. “Examine my work?”

“Nice try.” 

He grimaced at the blood pooling across the floorboards, already inching backward to protect the leather of his shoes.

Bovine was better than human.

He tried before.

You abandoned the crime scene and threw yourself into the backseat of the car. You stripped off your blood-stained shirt before digging through your duffle for a fresh one. Jim examined you and snickered.

“The baby angel is narrowing in on you.”

“Good.”

You yanked a shirt from the bag and raised your eyebrows.

“He’s onto the grand conspiracy?”

“He’s convinced there is one.”

“Quite the magic trick, James.”

He licked his lips and narrowed his eyes at you.

“You missed a spot.”

“Now, did I?”

With a sinister smile, you leaned forward and inched across the seat. Jim wrapped his hand around the side of your face. You held your breath as he leaned in, the heat of his own was evident across your skin.

He swiped the remnants of blood from your lips with the tip of his tongue. With a smirk, you bit your lip before allowing him to finish the job.

Jim absorbed your sins for the evening with the precise maneuvers of his lips and shameless curiosity of his tongue. He yanked on your hair to bring you closer to him—force applied only to the physical restraints of this world and not your willingness to meld yourself with him.

His touch was simply intoxicating.

Seizing your bottom lip between his teeth, he clamped down almost firmly enough to break the skin.

Almost.

You hadn’t earned it yet.

With a gasp of air, you threw your head back; quite familiar with being swallowed alive by the king of crime. He traced the side of your face with his thumb. When he reached your mouth, he hooked it into the corner of your lip and narrowed his eyes.

“Make him think he’s clever.”

As you started to sneer, he withdrew his touch.

“That certainly won’t be difficult,” you hummed. “It’s his favorite pastime.”

“And one day, you might be mine.”

“Don’t be dull, James.”

Jim examined your expression, committing the intensity of your eyes and tenseness of your jaw to memory. Stealing you was, thus far, his greatest accomplishment. At least he captured you before Sherlock ever could.

“My muse,” he sang. “How I’ve ached for you.”


End file.
